They come tiptoing, sometimes walking
Sometimes running on both sturdy and made of leaves rooftops
Falling like coins on concrete floors
Shining like silver on the grassy roads
Jumping like tears on the ground
Trying to find their way out
To blend where the others are
And find strength in their unity
In varied sounds, they play music
From mellow to raging voices
Some digging deep into the earth
Some marching with the rivers, brooks and creeks
Where they join forces in the open seas
And where they meet their timely deaths
Their souls going up back to the heavens
In white foams and dark clouds
To witness the wedding of thunder and lightning
Where they would come falling again
To touch the hearts of the earth and of men
Children love them when they are friendly
Men hate them when they come wild and ugly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem